The Dragonborn gone Insane
by The Eternal Guest
Summary: The Dragonborn has gone insane, and nobody is quite sure why. He's locked up now, but what caused it?


"The demons, they surround me.  
The demons want blood on my blade  
The demons hiding in my shade.  
The demons, they strike suddenly.  
The demons driving me insane.

They whisper lies into my ears.  
They laugh from outside my sight.  
They try to drive me mad with fright.  
They play on all my fears.  
The demons driving me insane.

I wish I could ignore them for longer.  
I wish I could hold them back.  
I wish I had that which I lack.  
I wish I were that much stronger.  
The demons driving me insane.

You can't save me, it's too late.  
You can't help me anymore.  
You can't aid me in my war.  
You can't stop me losing to my fate.  
The demons driving me insane."

It's all the guards hear anymore. Nobody knows exactly what happened to the man who was once the greatest warrior in Skyrim, possibly all of Tamriel, but most everyone knows what it resulted in.

Insanity.

He's kept locked up now; chained to a wall of strongest ebony, behind a door warded by the greatest mages the College of Winterhold and the Synod had to offer, a dragon could not break in.  
Or out, it was hoped.

Whatever had happened started in Solitude, scholars agree. His path of destruction started there, and then headed east, traversing all of Skyrim before heading south to Windhelm and Riften, where he was finally subdued.

The Blue Palace, majestic, beautiful. Called the largest artwork in Skyrim by some. Torn down from within, a storm seeming to emanate from within the eastern wing, where once the mad-king resided.

It ripped it's way through the palace, it's strength rending the walls from the building and eventually tearing the palace and the ground it stood upon down the three hundred foot drop to the earth below.

The town of Winterhold, having suffered so from the Great Collapse so many years ago. The Dragonborn's rage signalled the final end of the town, leaving only the college standing. One can see exactly how far the wards extend; a perfect sphere surrounds the College, stopping exactly where the Jarl decreed it should. Perhaps he should not have been so hasty, so easily swayed by public opinion, to refuse the College's protection.  
For beyond that perfect sphere there is nothing. No trace of what once was a town.

The Palace of Kings. Built by Ysgramor, the first historian of Men, some say. It had stood for so long. Built at the end of the first era, it had endured centuries, outlived countless empires and even races.

Yet the madness of the Dovahkiin rent it stone from stone, sending pieces flying as far as Solstheim.

Until he was captured in the Rift. He had almost reached the city of Riften when he was beset by the mages sent to capture him. Paralysing spells were so numerous that the sheen of green was seen from Ivarstead.

And when he woke, he was chained.

He was questioned of course, but only his rhyme was heard in answer. The Dragonborn was utterly insane, and nobody could learn what caused it. What caused the fall of their mightiest.

There was no way for them to search the Pelagius wing of the Blue Palace; it no longer existed. The epicentre of such a horrendous destruction as it was, there was simply nothing to be found.

All they had to go on was a single eyewitness, found near Morthal. A Synod researcher, he had been entering Solitude when the chaos began.

"There was more power there than anything ever seen before. It was... I can't compare it. I have seen the Great War, I saw what legions of Altmer Mages could do, but what I saw there...  
That explosion was more powerful than any in the Imperial City thirty years ago. I theorise that I survived because I had become acclimatised to Magic, and was so far away."

The remaining Blades suggested that the power and the explosion was caused by the Dragons' souls absorbed by the Dragonborn being released suddenly in the form of power, though nobody knows if that is right.

The Civil War is over though. There is no question about that. Elisif and Ulfric both slain, along with their greatest commanders. The Empire sent in reinforcements and new Jarls were chosen, all Imperial supporters, and a new High King was chosen amongst them. The town of Solitude was being rebuilt, a new seat for a new Jarl.

And far away, in the Shivering Isles, laughter sounds.


End file.
